Aiden just looked at me. “I really wish I wasn’t able to follow that. Where did you get the brownies?”
“Thelma and Georgiana,” I admitted. “Georgiana gave me the wrong pan.”
His mouth twitched, and he leaned over to grasp my hand. “I don’t want to hurt you, Anna.”
“Then don’t.” I loved how much bigger his hand was than mine. “Tell me the truth. Are you an undercover FBI agent?”
“No.” He snorted. “God, no. Why would you ask that?”
“Because I don’t want you to be the bad guy,” I whispered. “You’re too good to be the bad guy.” I straightened. “In fact, you told me that you weren’t the bad guy. Remember?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “When I’m with you, I don’t feel like the bad guy.”
That was both sweet and kind of sad. “Are you an informant to the FBI? The CIA, DHS, Secret Service, or the DEA?” I asked hopefully.
He grinned. “I am not an informant for anybody, sweetheart. Not my style, and I think you know that.”
True. Aiden didn’t seem like he took orders from anybody. “The Lordes were disbanded. Why in the world would you rebuild them?” I asked, trying to push away the hurt that caused me.
His gaze roamed my face. “We weren’t disbanded. Only weakened. The brotherhood means something to me. We have strength in numbers, and we run several legitimate businesses, including the garage in Washington. I couldn’t let all of that go.”
I didn’t get it. Not at all. “Why not?”
“I don’t have what you have,” he said softly. “No parents, no siblings, no aunts and uncles and cousins, and so on. It’s just me. Just me and the brothers I’ve found.”
“I would’ve shared mine,” I countered. At some point, anyway. “I get it, I really do. But the Lordes have also been shady in the past—especially with the running of drugs. Are you saying you’re going all the way legit?”
“I’d like to,” he said.
That sure wasn’t a yes. Why was this so difficult? “Is the fact that you’re not legit why you dumped me?”
He didn’t answer.
All righty then. I guess that was an answer. “Why were you in my sister’s apartment standing over a dead body?”
Aiden removed his hand. “We can’t talk about that, and you know it.”
“Did you kill him?” I just didn’t see Aiden as a cold-blooded killer. Oh, I had no doubt he’d kill in self-defense but not like that.
Aiden leaned back. “You think I shot him, dropped the gun, and then let your sister pick it up and point it at me?”
Well, since he put it like that. “No. So why not tell me what happened?”
“Advice of counsel,” he said, the stubborn tilt of his jaw all Irish.
“Baloney,” I said. “You wouldn’t listen to a lawyer to save your life. You wouldn’t listen to anybody. So why won’t you tell me the truth?” I just couldn’t get into his head about this.
He glanced at the quiet lake past my deck. “Because I want you to stay out of this. You’re a lawyer and a pretty new one. Not a cop, not a criminal, and not somebody who should be pursuing whoever put one bullet through Danny Pucci’s head.”
The man wasn’t wrong. I crossed my arms. “Now listen—”
“No. You listen.” He crossed his arms, and his muscles bulged in a much nicer way than mine. Well, if mine bunched at all. “The last time you tried to investigate a case, you nearly died. We both did. Let the cops do their jobs, and you do yours. Okay?”
“Right now, the cops have arrested my sister,” I reminded him.
“And you’re not her lawyer,” he reminded me right back.
Also true. I sighed. “Why are you here, Aiden? If you’re not willing to tell me what happened with Pucci, what do you want to say?” I was done with the warnings from him.
